Water Dreams

The water is clear and cold and it fills me as completely as the finest wine, squeezed from top grade grapes at the peak of their freshness and set to age in dark cold cellars. In fact, it is better. There is no sweet cloying after-taste to the water. Some might say there is nothing to the water at all, but I disagree.

I used to dream about water as a child. I would be sleeping so hard that I couldn't wake up and when I did wake up I was afraid to get out of bed, so I dreamed of drinking water as it bubbled up out of a fountain and as it poured from a pump into a large tin cup and as it ran from the bathroom sink into the family glass my mother always kept on the lavatory. I was thirsty and water was what we drank.

I still keep a cold pitcher of water in my refrigerator and I still gulp it down after coming in from a walk on hot humid days. I've heard that our bodies are ninety percent water. I've also heard that this same water that I am drinking has been around since the earth was formed, so it must be recycled millions of times through all the plants and animals and people in this world. This water I am drinking ties me to everything else as surely as the air I breathe does. It's supposed to.

My mother kept a family glass in our bathroom and none of us thought twice about it. The idea of drinking out of paper cups still doesn't do much for me, although I must admit, I am more careful about sharing cups these days. But if the truth be told, water is the mother's milk of the earth. It runs through her body, nourishing all the children that spring from her and even though she provides no "family glass" she does provide us with ample opportunities to replenish ourselves and the vintage is awesome